


Once Upon a Time in Melbourne

by S_Winter_Fitzgerald



Category: Justified, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Winter_Fitzgerald/pseuds/S_Winter_Fitzgerald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan Givens goes to Melbourne following a collaboration protocol signed between the Victoria Police Force and the U.S. Marshals Service and is assigned to the City South station.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [four wonderful ladies of the fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=four+wonderful+ladies+of+the+fandom).



Jack was surprised. Surprised and apprehensive, considering that he wasn’t summoned to the Victoria Police Force headquarters that often. He usually took that as a sign that he was doing his job well, but it didn’t feel as reassuring at that moment.

«The Commissioner will receive you now», a young constable said, interrupting Jack’s thoughts, fuelled by the idleness of waiting at an anteroom. « Please follow me», he continued, and so Jack did, through the labyrinthine hallways until they were by the door to Harker’s office.

The constable knocked.

«Come in», said the Commissioner.

«The Detective Inspector Robinson, sir», said the policeman, opening the door and making way for Jack, closing it after him later.

Harker wasn’t alone. A man he had never seen got up from one of the chairs in front of the desk, a tan Stetson hat in his hand. He was about Jack’s age **,** tall and his dark hair was greying at the temples.

«Inspector, thank you for coming», the Commissioner said, shaking Jack’s hand.

«This is Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens», he said, introducing the guest.

«Pleased to make your acquaintance, Inspector Robinson», said Raylan, shaking his hand afterward too.

Jack picked up strokes of some type of Southern accent he recalled from a few American soldiers he had met in the war.

« Likewise. Welcome to Melbourne. We hope you enjoy the city.»

«I fully intend to. I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far».

Despite the overcoat, Raylan appeared to have a slender frame. He was wearing a white shirt, a brown tie with slim white stripes, and a charcoal grey three-piece suit very similar to Jack’s that made his leather cowboy boots seem even more out of place.

«Take a seat, please», said Harker, «Would you like a cup of coffee or tea, Inspector Robinson?»

«No, thank you. I’ve just had mine at breakfast», replied Jack.

«Very well then. Moving on… You are probably wondering why I called you here and I shall put an end to your questions», Harker said, his words eliciting a smile from his guests.

« The Victoria Police Force and the U.S. Marshals Service signed a collaboration protocol at the beginning of this year», he explained, his hands crossed on top of the leather blotter that covered his desk. «We believe both institutions can benefit from learning about their complementary skill sets. Deputy Givens is here to observe and to share his experience in locating, pursuing, and apprehending fugitives. I’m not saying this only because he’s in this room as well, but he comes highly recommended by Chief Deputy Mullen and I think it will be constructive for both parts. Further down the road, one of our officers will go to America.»

«It appears to be a project with a great deal of potential», said Jack.

«Thank you. I chose you and your station to welcome the Deputy first because you have been a very valuable asset to the Police.»

«I feel very honoured to know that, sir», thanked Jack, which was true but he also didn’t fail to detect that Harker was counting on him to cause a good impression, «and I’m looking forward to working with you», he said, looking at Raylan.

«As well», Raylan said, shifting his gaze from one policeman to the other. He was glad to go back to work instead of just waiting to get to the intended destination at last. He had read a great deal over those days, but so much time at sea had also lead him to dwell on his own life more than what he was usually fond of.

«Now that everything is settled and explained, I have work to tend to and so do you, gentlemen, I believe», Harker said. «We will keep in touch over the next days», he continued, getting up from his chair.

«Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Commissioner», Raylan said, rising to his feet too and shaking Harker’s hand.

«I’m sure our officer will be equally well received in Lexington».

«Art Mullen will make sure of it», replied Raylan with a smile.

«Take care of our visitor, Inspector Robinson», Harked said, readying himself to resume dealing with the case files on his desk.

«We will, sir», Jack said, turning around after his boss’ dismissal.

They left the Commisioner’s office and made their way through the corridors, trying to not get lost.

«Is this your first time in Australia, Marshal?», Jack asked, making small talk.

«It is. Damn, I’ve been on that boat for so long it feels weird to say that», Raylan said. «Excuse me, but sometimes I swear I can still feel the floor rocking under my feet.»

«Not a fan of boats?»

« I was in the Marines before joining the Marshals, but I never had to travel in one for so long and I didn’t serve in Europe during the war. I’m even less of a fan particularly after a two-day train trip to California to catch said boat.»

«Where are you from, in the United States, that is?», Jack asked, signaling the guest to turn left, following the ‘Exit’ plaque on the wall.

«Harlan County, Kentucky. A really small place in the middle of the woods and the coal mines no one cares about. You?», Raylan said, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

«Born and raised around Melbourne, in Richmond». Jack noticed the other man didn’t seem regard his memories of hometown very fondly. «I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.»

Raylan shrugged.

«There’s nothing to be done about it now. For how long have you been a policeman?»

«About 16 years, including the war.»

Even if, for Jack, the stint in the army didn’t feel like an interruption of his police career but more like a different life altogether, he always ended up encompassing those years in his service.

«I’ve been with the Marshals for roughly the same time. »

«Always in Kentucky?»

«Nah, this assignment is somewhat recent. I’ve been in Texas, Georgia, and Florida before.»

Jack didn’t ask for more details, but Givens’ tone of voice lead him to believe Raylan wasn’t exactly pleased with his current post and it was very likely that it stemmed from his complex relationship with his birthplace.

The two men found themselves at the parking lot at last. They put their hats back on their heads, Raylan’s drawing the attention of the people around.

«My motorcar is over there», Jack said, walking towards the parked vehicles on the right.

«Nice Graham-Paige», Raylan said when they got next to the blue sedan, «I drive a Lincoln», he continued, opening the passenger’s door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story resulted from an observation made about similar suits and a joking remark about what I'd give to read a fic where Raylan and Jack met because I think they have some similarities. A few jokes later, I found myself writing this, not really sure of what would come out of it. 
> 
> Despite Harker's presence, this isn't a follow-up to UaTEC or 'Angry, Half in Love, and Tremendously Sorry', more like a parallel universe to that, if you want. I just thought it would be easier to keep some consistency in my MFMM stories. The characters and the storylines you recognise from the original material aren't mine, obviously. 
> 
> I've acknowledged since the beginning that I'm not sure this will hold even half a candle to the originals, but I hope you have fun reading it at least. 
> 
> I mention «Victoria Police Force» because it's how Jack refers to it when Phryne is 'sworn in' as Special Constable in «Game, Set, Murder». 
> 
> I have to thank everyone who has encouraged me to go forth as well as the people who helped me with certain details that I wasn't being able to find that easily. Any mistake is on me though.
> 
> Unlike UaTEC, I'll be much quicker to update this story, considering that it's already written in full, I just have to tweak some things. 
> 
> I don't know if a Lincoln would be the appropriate vehicle for a 1920s Marshal to drive, but I thought it would be fun to include that reference to TV Raylan's actual car. I also gave him the tan Stetson instead of that new hat of his because it's his trademark.
> 
> ETA: If you had read this already, you may have noticed that I took out the reference to adjusting to the time-zone change and replaced by other reasons why Raylan might be looking forward to going back to work. I have never taken such a long trip so Lady Gray's input on this matter - by boat you have the chance to adapt to it gradually - was quite valuable. 
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and/or reviews. I always enjoy receiving them.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack didn’t pinpoint every relevant monument or street they drove through on the way to the City South Police, but he made an effort to provide the guest with a more scenic drive than the straightforward path through residential areas he normally took.

On his part, Raylan didn’t ask any questions about their surroundings either, but he appeared particularly impressed by the architecture of the Flinders Street Station and by the gothic lines of St. Paul’s cathedral, at least judging by how he looked out the windows of the vehicle with a very interested expression on his face.

They kept talking about easy themes, like the comparison between their cars, between their guns (Jack’s a Webley .455 MK VI revolver, Raylan’s a Colt M1911A1 .455 semi-automatic pistol, carried in a leather holster Jack discovered he coveted even before they got to that conversation), between the weather in Lexington and Melbourne and a couple of the cases they had worked on.

«Thank you. Yes, he’s arriving as we speak. I’ll tell him directly», Hugh was saying into the telephone when they entered the station, putting the receiver back in place afterwards.

«Is something the matter, Collins?», Jack asked, approaching the counter.

«A murder, sir», he replied, looking at his boss first but hardly being able to obscure his curiosity about the man standing a few steps behind the Inspector.

«Constable, this is Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens. He will be with us for the next days», Jack said.

Upon the mention of «Marshal», Hugh’s eyes widened. He wasn’t exactly sure about what they job actually entailed, but he had read enough stories about the legendary Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson, and Seth Bullock to feel a certain fascination.

«How do you do?», Raylan said, touching the brim of his hat and shaking Hugh's hand.

«Honoured to meet you, sir», Hugh said shyly.

«Where’s the crime scene?», asked Jack.

«Lader Road, sir.»

«I know doesn’t fall under your usual purview, but would you like to join us, Marshal?», said Jack.

«You may not know who it is yet, but you a have suspect on the run at the moment, so it falls under my purview. Besides, I didn’t travel this far to sit in an office».

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. 
> 
> In the show, Raylan carries a Glock, but given that they didn't exist in the 1920s I chose to give him a Colt. It's, after all, the maker chosen by Elmore Leonard for book!Raylan (albeit a Python - not available yet either) in the first novels and the back-up gun he carries in the pilot is one as well. My special thank you to andveryginger for the help regarding which Colt to give him.
> 
> Lader Road doesn't exist but the Marshals mentioned did.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next installments. Kudos/reviews are always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Phryne was crouching by the body, observing the strange crook of one of the arms when a motorcar pulled up by the garage. She raised her eyes and a smile appeared on her face once she recognised it was Jack’s, but it turned into puzzlement when an unknown man in a tan hat vacated Hugh’s usual place in the vehicle, the constable exiting through the back passenger’s door instead.

Nevertheless, Miss Fisher couldn’t avoid looking at the visitor with interest and enjoy what she was seeing. Despite walking with his arms falling alongside his body a bit stiffly, he had a particular nonchalant confidence about him she found rather appealing and Dot, next to her, clutched her notebook; upon the sight of his shoulders, perhaps.

«Hello, Jack! I guess I beat you to it this time», she said when the three men came closer.

«I guess it’s true but only because I was at the Police Headquarters meeting the Marshal», Jack said with a subdued smile. Even if they had become friends meanwhile and their relationship currently stood on complex grounds, they still fostered a healthy sense of competition between each other.

«Miss Phryne Fisher, Lady Detective», she said, reaching out her hand, «and this is Miss Dorothy Williams, my assistant and companion.»

The man touched the brim of his hat.

«Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens», he said, taking Phryne’s hand. «A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Fisher. And yours, Miss Williams.»

Dot nodded, still slightly flustered.

«What brings you to Melbourne, Deputy Givens?», Phryne asked. She liked the challenging look in his brown eyes and his somewhat raspy voice. Mac should check her temperature right away if she ever failed to notice a handsome man.

«A collaboration protocol», Jack said. He did indeed mean to turn everyone’s concern to the investigation at hand, but, at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the effect seeing Phryne and Raylan getting along so easily despite having exchanged only a few words had on him.

«Carlton Wolfe», Phryne said, crouching near the victim again. «Owner of the Wolfe garage. He was always the first to arrive even if he no longer actually worked on the cars. Miss Jordan,», she continued, nodding towards the woman in her 30s crying by the door of the office, « found him laying here, this violently struck, when she came to work this morning.»

«By some sort of tool perhaps», Jack said, kneeling by the body too so he could analyse better the deep gashes on Wolfe’s head and face. He seemed to be in his late 40s-early 50s and was wearing a dark suit, now splattered with red drops of blood.

«Collins, check with Miss Jordan if anything is missing. Not only valuables but any implements as well», he instructed.

«Is anyone else here?», Jack asked Phryne.

« George, George Berman too. He’s the man in dungarees behind that shelf and chief mechanic. Between the two of them, I believe you’ll have an accurate picture of their inventory»

«Yes, sir. And Miss Fisher», Hugh said, before walking towards the secretary, Dot alongside him even before Phryne had asked her to take notes.

«George is the only person in Australia I trust to take care of the Hispano while Millie is in Sydney for a mechanical course », she explained.

«Did Wolfe have any enemies?», asked Raylan when the three of them resumed an upright countenance, putting his hands on his pockets, revealing the star badge at his hip when that action moved the flaps of his overcoat and jacket aside.

«Not that Miss  Jordan or George know of.»

«His wife is on the way to the station, maybe she’s more familiar with some details his employees were not», said Jack. «Do you need to come with us, Miss Fisher, or were you here in an investigative capacity only?»

«Don’t worry, Jack.  Miss Jordan called me for help. The Hispano is as good as ever and I’ll beat you to City South… as usual», she said, a smile on her face and a chance flourish of her red coat as she turned. She waved to Dot, who would stay behind to follow the interview and ask Cec and Bert to pick her up once it was done, and walked to her motorcar.

«I like her», Raylan said when she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for having read the first two chapters as well as for your comments. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I can only hope you keep having fun reading this.
> 
> When I started writing this, I wasn't planning on having a case ( you know that I fret a bit about writing them in a way that makes sense), but it came to be, it's their job after all. Besides, I do enjoy the mystery part of the show as well.
> 
> Feel free to kudo/review. I always love to know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

Madeleine Wolfe was a petite woman with brown hair who was trying her best to not let her nerves make her appear even smaller.

«Carlton never mentioned any enemies», she said, pushing her shoulders back and speaking slowly, «but he had been acting strange as of late. I asked him why but he only said ‘business’. I might not know much about that, but I knew my husband well enough to see he was very bothered by something», she continued, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

«Did you notice anyone lurking around your house by any chance?», asked Miss Fisher in a soft tone that Madeleine appreciated much. Now clad in black, she had never imagined she would find herself in an interview room with three investigators and it was difficult not to feel affected by such circumstances.

«I got the feeling I had once, about six months ago, but I blinked and he was no longer there», she said, wiping the teardrops down her cheeks with a handkerchief.

«Could you describe him for me, please?», said Phryne.

Jack and Raylan had been silent for a while. The first was by the window, slightly leaning on the sill and the latter stood by the door, slightly resting against it as well. He had asked Inspector Robinson if he could observe but he still wanted to go as unnoticed as possible unless there was a question he couldn’t avoid asking. Besides, his interviews were rarely this formal and thus organized – thing were done differently in Harlan for the most part.

«He was about 30 years old, he wore a suit and a hat. He didn’t stand out but the yellow tie and pocket square did», Madeleine said. «That’s what I remember best because I thought they were very ugly.»

A few steps to her right, Jack moved, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets and tensing his jaw.

«Do you have any further questions, gentlemen?»

Raylan shook his head. Considering Jack’s reaction, he’d bet he had already found something interesting in that description.

«Inspector Robinson?», called Phryne.

«We will be in touch, Mrs. Wolfe.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is chapter was more case-based, but I thought it was needed to keep the story going. As mentioned before, I hadn't thought of including an investigation, but it sort of came to be, given the structure of both shows and the characters' jobs.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this bit enough nevertheless and that you are still interested in reading what's coming up next.
> 
> Thank you for support and enthusiasm.


	5. Chapter 5

«Cal Evans seems to be the man we should be looking for», said Jack, sitting behind his desk, Phryne and Raylan having taken the guest chairs.

«The yellow tie and pocket square», said Miss Fisher, Madeleine’s reference coated by a particular but identifiable context now.

«You seem very pleased with your conclusion, but I’m afraid you’ll have to clue me in», said Raylan, raising his hand.

«Billy Ashton is Melbourne’s chief gangster and Mr. Evans takes care of collecting the money for their enterprises», explained Jack.

«You could say he’s the Callector then », Raylan said in a very dry tone.

Phryne and Jack let out genuine laughs.

«I’m sorry», he said, imagining that Art would have probably thrown a pencil at his head if he were the one sitting across the table.

«Don’t apologise, Marshal, for we also have a sense of humour. It’s very needed to carry us forward without losing our minds sometimes», said Phryne. «I’m sure you are familiar with the feeling as well.»

«It’s true. », he said with a nod, «So could we be talking about protection money?», Raylan continued, sealing the turn in the conversation to the matters at hand. «Outlaws aren’t that different, are they? The schemes can boiled down to nearly the same everywhere.»

«After all these years on the job, I’ve found that criminals rarely stand out for originality. There’s one now and then who manages to though», said Jack, «and when they do I’d say it’s more out of vanity than actual cleverness».

«The worst is when both vanity and cleverness mix. It can only get messy from there on, but we can handle that», said Raylan.

«We can but it’s nice to see them try», said Phryne.

«I doubt they would be so blunt, but have you ever noticed an inkling that Wolf could be in hot water wish Ashton, Miss Fisher?», asked Jack.

«No, never, but thankfully the Hispano never needed that much maintenance, just a touch-up here and there. I think we could take a look at the books», Phryne said, crossing her arms. «If he was in these type of troubles I don’t think he would write it down but maybe we can find some discrepancies.»

«And there’s the murder weapon. Or better still, its absence and how little we know of it», said Jack.

Someone knocked on the door.

«Ask and you shall receive?», Phryne said.

«Come in, Collins.»

Hugh entered the office, seemingly uneasy with so many pairs of eyes on him.

«Well, between the tool silhouettes drawn in the walls, boards, and shelves and Miss Jordan’s inventory, the Wolf garage is missing a Stillsons, a type of spanner used for pipe fittings, which matches the coroner’s preliminary report regarding what sort of tool might have caused Mr Wolfe’s injuries.»

«Thank you, Collins. That’s something to start with», said Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters in and I hope you are still enjoying this.
> 
> I note again that despite the mention of Billy Ashton, the gangster whose paperweight collection Phryne and Jack raid for UaTEC, this is not a sequel or a prequel to that story, more like a parallel universe. 
> 
> Considering that there are some of you who have never watched Justified but have been reading this (thank you), perhaps you'll find of use that the 'Art' mentioned is Art Mullen, the Chief Deputy of the Eastern Kentucky Office/ Raylan's father figure (you will have to be very persistent to convince me otherwise).   
> After I had wrote mine, I worried if Raylan would be the type of person to make a pun, but it turns out that he is (at least once): «Lawrence Nightingale» in order to refer to a nurse in shady dealings. I would also like to thank you once again for sticking by.
> 
> Those pipe wrenches can have a lot of names depending on where you are talking about them: pipe wrench (US), Stillson wrench or Stillsons (UK), according to wikipedia, at least. Given the influence of the UK on Australia, I decided to use those denominations.
> 
> I renew my wish that you are looking forward to reading what's coming up next as well as my appreciation for your comments and encouragement.


	6. Chapter 6

Miss Fisher and the Inspector had been pouring over books, ledgers, bank statements, and planners at the Wolfe Garage for some hours, having started their task after a quick lunch. Yet, as expected, their reading hadn’t yielded relevant results so far. They would hand them to a forensic accountant eventually, but they wanted to find something that strengthened the Cal Evans theory or that provided some clues to Carlton’s agitation at least.

Miss Jordan had located and brought them every folder they had asked for, but continued to claim to know nothing more, sniffing away the remains of the tears she had cried from now and then, and George, for his part, kept quiet in the chair by the shelf, staring at his boots.

Phryne and Jack were seated side by side, their elbows touching sometimes as they turned the pages. Dot was in front of them, taking notes of what Miss Fisher thought worth remembering, but it made only for a page and a half so far.

They had started to go through records dating from six months ago, roughly the time since when Madeleine had noticed the change in her husband’s behavior, which contributed to the amount of information still ahead of them.

Meanwhile, the other two lawmen were scouring outside, both looking for the missing weapon and for other pieces of evidence that might lead them towards the killer. Yet, for the moment, their efforts were as unsuccessful as the ones by those who had stayed in the office.

Raylan was making his way into the woods patch at the end of the road. He wasn’t that familiar with its geography, but it struck him as a place where one might feel tempted to hide a murder weapon if needed.

He had heard some frightening stories about the local fauna, but he had his fair share of dangerous animals where he came from and he had done his research, so he wouldn’t return to America in a coffin after having been bitten by some spider as long as he could avoid it.

For the obvious reasons as well as for the international repercussions and all the paperwork and investigation it would entail, Raylan hoped he didn’t have to pull his gun, but he kept his hand on the holster at his hip just in case. Constable Collins was far away, walking up and down the alleys between and behind the warehouses and the garages located in that area and couldn’t be of help if needed.

Raylan moved cautiously long the path in the middle of the trees, looking around him, his ears picking up each sound coming from the woods.

About 30 yards away, he caught a gleam of something on the floor. In order to not be hit in the face by the branches ahead, he slowly walked towards that zone. It turned out to be a piece of broken glass, probably from a bottle someone had clandestinely drunken there, but an accidental trail of splintered boughs nearby appeared much more promising:  it span northwards as far as he could see, but it didn’t begin that far off from where he stood and the soil appeared rather irregular there.

When he turned to go check it closely, he heard a sudden rustle coming from the tree on his left. Raylan hid behind an acacia and grabbed the grip of his gun, his head tilted in the direction of the noise, his fingers tensed. The swish continued until a blue bird he had never seen flew out of the leaves.

Raylan pushed his hat back and scratched his forehead, slightly amused by the situation. Someone who might have seen him in that moment would have trouble believing he had grown up surrounded by woods. If he were in Kentucky and Tim had witnessed that moment, he would never hear the end of it, which made him glad he wasn’t. He set himself to focus even harder and got back to tracing the snapped branches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're roughly half-way through this story and I hope you have been enjoying it and are still looking forward to see what's coming up next.
> 
> I'm afraid this chapter ended up a bit more case-based once more, but I think it's kind of curious in the sense that has turned my story a bit more like a MFMM episode (as if ?). Yet, as in a MFMM ep, there are also personal details and I hope I have been able to manage that, even if it may not be that pronounced in this section.
> 
> I used 'yards' not only because this part is from Raylan's perspective and the US have their own customary units, but also because metrification effectively began in Australia in 1966. Before that, they used the Imperial System.
> 
> A little note to the non-Justified watchers out there: 'Tim' is Tim Gutterson, a fellow Deputy Marshal with a wicked dead pan delivery (the Eastern Kentucky Office is very well served in that regard). He's also a former Army Ranger—a sniper— and a war veteran. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments so far. They mean a lot to me.


	7. Chapter 7

Absentmindedly, Phryne turned another page. She was bored.  Even the thrill of the investigation had a limit, it seemed.

By her side, Jack kept diligently going through the ledgers but was slowly growing disappointed as well.

The sound of Raylan’s boots on the concrete floor shook them out of that numbness. He tapped on the open door with his knuckles.

«May I?»

«Please», said Phryne with a sigh, straightening herself in the chair.

«I think I found something important», said Raylan, «It has earth and dead leaves on it, but I guess it could be our murder weapon. »

«Has Collins returned already?», said Jack, Hugh coming through the garage door right away as if summoned by his boss’ words.

«May I, sir?», he said, joining them in the office.

«Anything that may be relevant, Constable?»

«I’m afraid not, sir. No one saw anything but no one seemed very keen on talking to the police to begin with. They refused meeting me at once or if they didn’t, they did so in corners and kept looking around and answered in monosyllables.»

 Jack seemed about to say something else, but ordered Collins to stay there with Miss Jordan and George Berman in a way that made it seem like an afterthought instead.

«We’re going to check something that Deputy Givens found that may be connected to the case», Jack announced, rising to his feet.

 

**XXX**

 

«This has something to do with Evans», Jack said when they were already in the woods.

«Or perhaps these folks are just very shy», said Raylan, their ‘shyness’ too familiar for him from Harlan as a consequence of very similar dealings.

Dried leaves crunched under their feet as they walked. Raylan was guiding them through the pathway but kept looking to his right, attempting to locate the branch to which he had tied his handkerchief as a marker.

«He’s rather ghost-like, isn’t he?», Phryne said, walking in an apparent effortless manner even if her heels sank in the dirt from now and then. «This Cal Evans person. I don’t exactly believe in the occult, but it’s difficult to not think about it at least when he’s not seen that often and yet seems to be hovering about and scaring people out of their wits», she continued.

«I think that’s why Ashton may like Evans so much. He can hardly go anywhere without making himself the centre of attention», said Jack. The police had been onto Ashton for years but they had failed to be able to connect him to any crimes strongly enough to warrant a conviction.

«But for the awful yellow accessories», Phryne said.

«But for the awful yellow accessories», repeated Jack.

«What’s with outlaws and the spotlight anyway? Shiny guns and cars, nice suits and a penchant for rhetoric. It’s the same in Melbourne as in Kentucky», Raylan paused. «It’s here», he said when he saw the white piece of cloth fluttering in the breeze. «Mind the branches.»

 «I thought it was best not to take it out before you saw this, but I picked a small stick and poked around a little», Raylan continued when they were by the shallow hole, untying the handkerchief from the tree and putting it back in his pocket. «It seems like the wrench that’s missing.»

Some leaves had been pushed aside, revealing the top of a steel tool, edged in what seemed to be dried blood.

«Miss Jordan said she arrived ten minutes earlier than usual. Maybe the killer wasn’t counting on that and had to run», Dorothy said.

«A very astute observation, Dot», said Phryne, facing her, with a smile.

«Thank you, Miss», she replied, arranging her hat.

 Jack put on his leather gloves and took the implement in his hands.

«It’s a Stillson spanner», he said.

«Well, I guess you call it that around here», said Raylan. «Would this Cal Evans guy hide it like this?»

«No, I don’t think so. He would toss it in Yarra or down a mine shaft even if he were in a hurry», replied Jack, turning it in his hands.

«Abandoned shafts…Considering what people throw down them, they would give the lost and found at a train station a run for their money», said Raylan.

«A new associate, perhaps? Or not even Evans at all?», Phryne said.

Normally, Jack didn’t focus on one theory alone until the investigation was nearly over and even then he always left some room not exactly for doubt, but for keeping his eyes and his ears open. He wanted to maintain a clear mind for the new angle that might be lurking underneath, brought forward by the discovery of an unknown lead or the observation of the facts they were already familiar with through a new lens. This time though he seemed strangely attached to the hypothesis that Wolfe’s death might be connected with Ashton, his collector, and protection money. She didn’t rule that out completely as well but, so far, they had very little to pin on any suspect, let alone one so specific and in a frame as intricate as gangsters.

«Maybe» Jack said, taking a paper bag from the inner pocket of his overcoat.

«Do you get many mob-related deaths?», Raylan asked.

«Some. Money and power are the chief reasons for murder after all», he said raising the spanner in the air so they could all see it better, guessing which indentations had ripped through Wolfe’s flesh and bone.

«Not to mention love», Phryne said when Jack put the possible murder weapon in the bag, still looking at her.

«Yes. There’s a fair share of it too», replied Jack.

«I’d say that whoever left this here», Raylan said, « may have walked alongside the path until something or someone lead him to hide the wrench in the dirt and run through the woods as if his life depended on it, which it probably did».

«Someone may have left a shred of clothing behind, for instance», said Phryne.

«Or maybe they’ll have their face so scratched up it’s bound to call attention», Raylan said, « I wonder if henchmen can take sick days.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that all this case talk hasn't dissolved your interest in this story. 
> 
> May it be that having Phryne, Jack, and Raylan (as well as Hugh and Dot) working together has eased it a bit? *fingers crossed* 
> 
> Thank your for reading, reviewing, and generally sticking by. You're the best.


	8. Chapter 8

Animated by the discovery of the probable murder weapon, Phryne and Jack went back to analyzing the planners and the ledgers, close to catching up to the present day.

«I can’t find any records of a dark green Essex sedan I remember seeing here two mornings ago», said Phryne, turning the same three pages back and forth.

«Maybe they were fully booked for the day», Jack said after taking a glimpse at the sheets, scribbled in blue from top to bottom.

«They were, that’s why George told me to come at 7.30 in the morning. But it is written here nevertheless», she said, pointing to the «Hispano-Suiza. P. Fisher» registered right at the beginning at the page, even before there were any lines on the paper.

«Some sort of emergency?», said Raylan, an open ledger on his lap as well, the paperwork he hated so much following him to the other side of the world.

«Mine was too – I had noticed that the wheel nut seemed to be loosening when I went out for dinner. I’m afraid my call even dragged poor George out of bed and in the morning he didn’t seem to have had a good night sleep when he opened the door.»

Jack said nothing but flinched at the mention of a faulty wheel. He preferred to change that image to one of Phryne arriving at the garage, dawn lighting her evening dress after a long night of fun, begrudgingly still awake at such early hour but agreeable and polite as always.

« Do you remember anything about that car?», he asked.

«Not much beyond the colour and that it seemed to be about 4-5 years old, I’m afraid. 7.30 is too in advance for me, Jack. Besides, I would never guess someone would kill Wolfe within some days.»

«It isn’t unexpected, though, is it?», Jack said with a certain degree of cheekiness, alluding to Miss Fisher’s particular ability to seemingly have crime find her.

«Oh, Jack. You know it’s not my fault.», she said with a smile. «Besides, He was always rather withdrawn so I didn’t know him well enough to notice if something was bothering him», Phryne said more seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens (I hope).
> 
> It's a small chapter but I hope you enjoyed it and are curious to see what's coming next. It will take a different turn I want to believe you'll like.
> 
> Thank you for everything. :)


	9. Chapter 9

Raylan handed his hat and his overcoat to Mr. Butler, still amused by the fact that name and job matched so exactly.

Miss Fisher had invited him and Jack for dinner at her house, Collins already set to meet his family at his sister’s, after the realisation that it was too late in the day to go knocking on doors in search for the car Miss Fisher had seen at the garage. Three more hours and five pairs of eyes devoted to the task had resulted in two piles of beige folders on Jack’s desk. The one on the right was taller and included all the green Essex motorcars that had ever been repaired at the Wolfe’s Garage while the one on the left, smaller in size but by no means easily countable, referred to all cars that while not being that colour and maker could be similar at first glance.

Neither of them had meant to impose, but relented after her second try. He wasn’t exactly sure of what to expect, but the mention of Mr. Butler’s « Roasted Leg of Lamb with Garlic and Rosemary» seemed to have been enough to unlock something in the inspector. Raylan himself didn’t have any plans but having dinner at the Police Academy and reading in his room, so this was definitely a better alternative.

There was no doubt it was a very beautiful house. It was also quite different from what he was used to see in America and in the mansions his job had taken him to sometimes: elegant tiles on the floor, deep colours on the walls, fancy furniture. Miss Fisher was clearly a woman of taste and means, but she hadn’t let that go to her head. 

The air smelled of the promised delicacies prepared by Mr. Butler and Miss Williams: the herbs that seasoned the lamb, some cake or pie in the oven.

«This way, please. The aperitif will be served in the parlour», Mr. Butler said after hanging Jack’s coat and hat too.

«The Inspector and the Marshal, Miss», he announced, leaving to the kitchen afterwards.

Phryne had come home ahead of them to warn the household staff about the new company and had changed into a different outfit meanwhile, her red and white day clothes replaced by black trousers and a black and gold tunic.

«Welcome!», she said with a broad grin in her face, pausing the conversation going on with a visibly distinguished lady with silver hair.

«Aunt Prudence, I present you Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens. He’s in Melbourne under a collaboration protocol with the Victoria Police. He has been Jack’s guest so far but today he’s ours as well», Phryne said.

«Prudence Stanley», the lady said, stretching out her hand. Her objections still flared from now and then, but she had been making an effort to accept her niece’s acquaintances better than out of politeness alone.

«I’m honoured to make your acquaintance, Ma’am», Raylan replied, with a nod, shaking her hand afterwards.

«Have you been in Australia for long?», Aunt Prudence asked.

«Nearly two full days, Mrs. Stanley.»

«I believe you’ll enjoy our city and our country very much.»

«I believe so as well. People have been going out of their way to be welcoming and I appreciate that.»

«Would you like to have something to drink before dinner? My suppliers weren’t able to provide bourbon on such short notice, but I can assure you any of the alternatives available, including Mr. Butler’s cocktails, will be equally delightful», Phryne offered.

«Given the context back where I come from, anything other than moonshine, bathtub gin or bottles shaken to their core by the journey from Canada will do for me», Raylan said with a smile. «I’ll gladly take some whiskey off your hands if your promise to not tell my boss», he continued, even if Art wouldn’t mind it in the least. As deputies of the Marshal Service, they were part of the agencies responsible for enforcing the Eighteenth Amendment, but the chief kept a bottle under a floorboard of his office to share with a select few (Raylan and Tim, basically) in very special occasions.

(Aunt Prudence was startled by the turn of the conversation, but she reserved her judgment this time).

«Please do», Phryne said, returning to her conversation with Aunt Prudence about a letter she had received from Guy and Isabella, who were currently touring France, but not before taking a long look at the two handsome, tall, lean men in three-piece suits by her bar-cart.

«Is this always this lively?». Raylan asked the inspector, looking around at the scene, a glass of neat whiskey already in his hand.

«It is», replied Jack. « Although tonight it seems to be missing Dr. Elizabeth McMillan, who is Miss Fisher’s best friend, Jane, Miss Fisher’s ward, and even Cec and Bert – cab drivers and part-time collaborators. She has built quite a family around her».

«I hope you excuse me for asking this, but is something going on between you two?», asked Raylan, tilting his head slightly in his direction.

Jack finished that sip of his drink as neutrally as he was able to manage. After he had said those last words, they had rung in his head for a moment, their underlining significance too clear for him, but he had hoped Givens wouldn’t pick up on them. On them or on how he had seemed uneasy when Raylan had said he liked her after their first meaning or on any of those glances they simply couldn’t avoid exchanging.

«It’s true that we became friends meanwhile, but we work together, mostly», he replied, hoping to not have done so in a way that increased Raylan’s doubts instead of quashing them as it was his intention.

«I see», said Raylan, his turn to take a drink now. «Well, this is a good whiskey.»

«Indeed», said Jack and they stayed in silence for a while until Jane joined them after greeting Phryne and Aunt Prudence.

«Inspector!», she said joyfully. It was always good to have him over for dinner. They always had very interesting conversations about Literature and History.

«Hello, Jane. I was thinking you weren’t home tonight», said Jack.

«I had some Maths homework I had to finish for tomorrow. I spent my afternoon at the library researching about Eucalyptus in Australia for the botany chapter of Biology class», she replied.

«Are you sure you aren’t spreading yourself thin over so much schoolwork?», Jack asked. He admired her curiosity and thirst for knowledge, but he hoped she still managed to do things for fun.

«I appreciate your concern, Inspector, but there’s no need to worry», she said with a smile. «Tomorrow I’m going with Mac to the Botanical Gardens, just for the sake of it. No report to fill this time.»

Jack laughed alongside her. «Speaking of Mac, where is she?»

«She’s in the night shift tonight. Phryne asked her if she could exchange with someone, but it was impossible.»

«Jane, this is Deputy US Marshal Raylan Givens. He will be in Australia working with the Police for a while.»

«Jane Ross», she said stretching out her hand. «It’s nice to meet you», her eyes already gleaming with the excitement of all the questions she wanted to ask him about his work and his country.

«It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Ross», Raylan said. Jane reminded him of Loretta, at least physically to begin with.

Once the mandatory social pleasantries were over, she said:

«Have you ever been shot?».

Aunt Prudence, on her way to meet them with Phryne by her side, gasped at such forward question.

«I have», said Raylan. The way she didn’t mince words reminded him of Loretta as well. «Here. Through and through without hitting anything major, thankfully», he said, moving the flap of his coat aside and pointing over the waistcoat to a spot far in his left flank, right under his ribs. He had debated for an instant whether to disclose that last piece of information or not, but with Miss Fisher and the Inspector in her life, Raylan doubted Jane would settle for the summarised version.

«I see Jane has put her inquisitive nature at use», Phryne said, with a hand on the girl’s shoulder, rather proud of her for doing so.

«It’s alright. As long as I can answer, ask away, Miss Ross».

«That’s very kind of you, Marshal», said Aunt Prudence.

«Normally I’m the one asking the questions, so it’s interesting to be on the other side for a change.»

«Dinner is ready, Miss», announced Mr Butler, taking advantage of a pause Phryne made to drink a sip of her cocktail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's a chapter focused more on the characters than the case. I hope you enjoyed the change of pace.
> 
> I'm sorry for shuffling Hugh and Mac out of the picture but I have to confess that sometimes it's difficult to handle so many characters, particularly because I wanted to bring Aunt Prudence and Jane into the fold. (I really miss Jane).
> 
> How do I explain who Loretta McCready is to you, non-Justified watchers? She may only be just a teenager but a lot has happened in her life already. She's tough and has been making her way into the world the best she can. (This doesn't sound right, but I don't know how to say it better without spoiling some things). I'd say that Raylan and her have a sort of a big brother/little sister relationship.
> 
> Raylan was indeed shot in 2x13 'Bloody Harlan' but since you can see right away that he's fine (well as much as someone shot can be) and Justified's rule was, in showrunner's Graham Yost's words:' they're not dead unless you've seen them in a body bag' and it didn't happen I don't think it can qualify as much as a spoiler. (Don't google the name of the episode though if you want to watch it someday because it's a season finale where a lot happens and it has some of the best moments of the show)
> 
> I know this sounds a bit repetitive, but I can't thank you enough for how warmly you have embraced this random story. I hope you keep enjoying it and are looking forward to seeing where this is going.


	10. Chapter 10

Raylan understood now why Mr. Butler’s cooking had such a hold on Jack Robinson. He didn’t eat lamb very often, but he doubted it was the only reason why the dish tasted so delicious; the meat was very well seasoned and slightly pink yet cooked to perfection and the roast potatoes were on point.

«There was this guy named Wade Messer, who was wanted for armed robberies. I was looking for him as well, but for personal reasons – he had helped someone hit me in the head and string me up a tree. Well, he had been spotted around Harlan, the State Police set a road-block and called me», Raylan was saying, « A delivery cart comes up at the end of the line and catches my attention. As I walk towards it, the driver suddenly makes a u-turn to go back where they had come from, except the way was very narrow for that kind of thing and he put the wheel in the ditch, overturning the cart. It may not seem so said like this, but the seriousness of the matter aside, it was rather comical.»

«Did you catch him?», Jane asked enthusiastically.

«Not that time. He was able to exit the cart and run to the woods before I got there, but I did catch him later that day.»

He had gone through some of his stories, keeping explicit details at bay and omitting casualties, not meaning to spoil such a pleasant evening.

Even Aunt Prudence seemed to get enveloped in the good mood around the table and had shared memories of her visit to the St. Louis World's Fair in 1904 with Uncle Edward. It had been her first trip to America and the fair had been most impressive, not only in size but also in exhibits. 62 Foreign-nations and 43 of the states out of the 45, at the time, had taken part, bringing entertainment, but also science, history, and culture. It had wonderful gardens and exquisite architecture like The Palace of Fine Art, with its Roman inspiration, the Festival Hall or the entrance to "Creation" , an exhibit displaying the first 6 days in the Book of Genesis. She had even ventured out into riding the Ferris wheel, which had been both exhilarating and frightening almost in equal measure.

«What have you prepared for us today?», Phryne asked, as Mr Butler came through the dining room pushing a trolley with the desert already in individual plates.

« Dried Verjuice Apricot and Frangipane Tart with Vanilla Ice-Cream», he said, serving the dishes, starting by Aunt Prudence and thoroughly following the order of precedence.

«I thought this meal couldn’t get any better, but it turns out I was wrong», Raylan said after the first bit of desert. The tart was very good, but the ice cream was even better in his opinion, yet he would always be biased when it came to it. «If the Marshal thing stops panning out, I could see myself opening an ice-cream shop».

«That would be quite a change of line of work», said Phryne.

«A much simpler one, that it’s true», Raylan acquiesced. «Home-made?»

«Yes, sir», replied Mr Butler.

«Very well done.»

«Thank you, sir, but I must share your congratulations with Miss Williams, who also contributed with her talent». Mr Butler was a humble and just man, but he couldn’t deny that he felt very proud when he saw people enjoying his dishes this much.

«Very well done, Miss Williams», Raylan said, nodding in her direction.

«Thank you, Marshal», said Dot.

«Indeed. I should send Mary to learn the recipe», said Aunt Prudence, «her cooking skills have improved, but her ice-cream is still little less than ice and cream that don’t mix together properly».

«Whenever you find it convenient, Ma’am.»

They kept gladly eating dessert until they moved to the parlour for coffee and digestifs, the men foregoing the ritual of staying behind in the dining room having theirs, considering that neither of them smoked.

Jane was the first to bid goodnight. As much as she was fascinated by the stories Raylan had to tell about his work in the mines as well as with the U.S. Marshal Service and the fauna living in the mountains of Kentucky (the red foxes had become her particular favourites), it was a school night after all.

Aunt Prudence was next. Still in a good mood, she said goodbye to everyone individually and then turned to Phryne when they were by the cab already:

«Thank you so much for inviting me, Phryne. It was a very agreeable evening.»

«It’s always a pleasure to have you at this house, Aunt P, and you know that», she said with a genuine smile, a hand on her aunt’s arm.

«Thank you, thank you. », Aunt Prudence paused for an instant. «I missed Dr. Macmillan’s company, but the Marshal was a welcome addition to the dinner party. He’s very charming.»

«Are you entertaining the idea of a younger, American husband, Aunt P?», Phryne said good-humouredly.

«Phryne!», Mrs Stanley replied in a similar manner, as her niece kissed her cheek.

«You could do much worse than Deputy Givens, let me tell you», Phryne said with laugh, Aunt Prudence laughing a little alongside her too as she got in the car.

«Telephone ahead if you decide to go play tennis so I can tell Musgraves to mind the court», she said in a more serious tone.

«I will, Aunt P, even if your house is always flawlessly kept.»

«I’m very pleased to know someone takes notice», she said when Cec was already back behind the wheel. They had been at some sort of session at the Communist Party. The less she knew the better.

«Have a safe drive», Phryne said, « Goodnight!»

When Phryne returned to the parlour, Jack was by himself, leaning on the mantelpiece as he enjoyed the music coming out of the phonograph.

«Alone at last?», Phryne asked, actually finding herself gladly for it. She was getting accustomed to their end-of-the-day conversations; the evenings seemed a bit incomplete without them now. She enjoyed her nights out immensely and sometimes she even went dancing once Jack was gone, but she couldn’t deny she always looked forward to their nightcap even if they came wrapped in an increasingly dangerous closeness and intimacy.

«The Marshal went to the bathroom», Jack said, relishing as well in the always pleasant experience of their intimate get-togethers.

«Do you miss working only with me?», Phryne asked with slightly mocking defiance, standing in front of him.

«Would it offend your sensibilities if I said I don’t?», said Jack with a hint of smile on his face.

«A little, I guess, but you know I do not dwell much on such matters apart from very particular circumstances», Phryne said, looking squarely at him.

«Do you find this one of those particular circumstances?», Jack said, taking a step towards her even if he hadn’t exactly meant to - heart over reason once again.

«Would it offend your sensibilities if I said I don’t?», said Phryne, taking a step as well, a charged silence rising around them, both not breathing for a moment.

«I never thought I’d…», Raylan said, walking into the room without completing the sentence. «I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb», he continued, not knowing exactly what to do next.

Phryne and Jack turned to him, still trying to catch their breath. They were so enthralled by each other they hadn’t heard his boots on the mosaics of the hallway.

«Not at all», said Miss Fisher, back to her hostess duties. «Have you tried the petit-fours?», she said, delicately pointing towards the small almond sweets on a platter on top of the side table.

«I did, but I’ll have another», Raylan said, more to diffuse the awkwardness that out of actual appetite.

«Perhaps we should go», said Jack, moving away from the fireplace and straightening his jacket, «It’s starting to get late and we have a long day of door-knocking to look forward to tomorrow.»

«Don’t say that, Jack. It will be the most fun», Phryne said, trying to imbued her words with a certain amusement but she couldn’t deny a sting of disappointment in her chest for her conversation with Jack having been interrupted like that. «Besides, Deputy Givens will have the chance to sight-see quite a lot, even areas visitors don’t usually have much interest in.»

«I can’t wait, considering this afternoon’s preview», said Raylan.

Jack walked towards the hall and took his things, which were being handed to him by Mr Butler. Robinson was slightly startled by his presence, but he couldn’t say he was surprised – he seemed to be able to anticipate any need, wish or move.

«Thank you, Mr. Butler», he said, putting on his coat.

«And thank you for the invitation as always, Miss Fisher», he said, turning to her, trying to maintain a tone of voice that was convivial enough but that didn’t betray his emotions. «I’m sorry for leaving so soon.»

«It’s always a pleasure to have you over, Jack, but we will meet tomorrow». I am certain we can manage the upcoming hours, she had meant to say, but decided against it at the last minute. She could see he was as embarrassed as it was. Even if he had overcome some of his shyness when with her, dealing with someone he didn’t know very well was definitely something different.

Raylan thanked Mr. Butler for fetching him his overcoat and his hat, thanked Miss Fisher for inviting him and the two men left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this new chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. :)
> 
> I don't know much about lamb consumption in America, but wikipedia tells me that it's more prevalent in the «shepherding areas of the Western United States», which would be a bit away from Raylan's millieu. Curiously, there's tradition of barbecued mutton in Owensboro, KY, but given that it's in the opposite part of the state from Harlan I thought that in the 1920s Raylan wouldn't probably pop by to share some with Art and Tim very often. 
> 
> The Wade Messer story actually happens in 3x03 'Harlan Roulette'. It involves a moving truck instead of a delivery cart but not only did I thought it would be more à propos time-wise, I also thought it would increase the comedic value (?). 
> 
> The St. Louis World's Fair was quite something. Held in St. Louis, Missouri, and was supposed to be a celebration of the centennial of the 1803 Louisiana Purchase. In order to allow for a bigger kind of exhibition, it took place only in 1904 in a 1,200 acre (4.9 km²) site. 62 foreign nations were present as well as 42 out the the 45 states that were at the time. It's legacy spans from architecture to new foods, for instance - apparently the ice-cream cone as we know became more popular there. 
> 
> This time Mr Butler left Escoffier aside and took his recipes from Masterchef Australia - the lamb was Heston Blumenthal's in one of his participations in the show and the Dried Verjuice Apricot and Frangipane Tart Maggie Beer's. I don't know if they are time-appropriate but I didn't know what to choose for dessert and the tart looked delicious on screen. I added the ice-cream because it's canon that Raylan does love it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy what's coming up next. Thank you for reading and for the lovely reviews you send me.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given that this is a Raylan-centric chapter, there are some tiny spoilers for Justified' S2 and S3, but I don't think they're that major that would unpair your enjoyment of the show. Nevertheless, I thought it was best to say something.

Raylan put his book aside. That uneasy feeling had already shadowed him as he had gotten ready for bed but the music coming out from the wireless seemed to strengthen it instead of drowning it, which had been the reason why he had turned it on in the first place.

He arranged his head on the pillow. After living in a motel for some months, he didn’t completely mind faceless rooms like the one he was occupying at the Police Academy, prepared especially for visitors like him.  It was sparsely decorated but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was painted in white, which made it seem bigger, and had an iron single bed with impeccably creased sheets against the wall. There was a wooden bedside table with a small metal lamp and a desk with the matching chair near the window. On the opposite wall, stood a wardrobe with drawers inside, an armchair upholstered in a brown fabric and the table with the wireless. A dark red rug ran alongside the bed and a basin on a washstand was placed in a corner with a mirror hung over it, the bathroom being across the hall.

He knew that the sensation hollowing his chest wasn’t exactly homesickness. Raylan had been trying to figure out where home was for most of his life and he didn’t believe he would find the answer soon, if ever. Maybe Miami, considering that Winona and Willa were there, but it felt so far away, even the actual distance aside, he wasn’t that sure.

The evening at Miss Fisher’s had been very pleasing, there was no doubt about it, but now that it was gone, he found himself sad and lonely even despite the fact that he acknowledged he ended up keeping to himself for the most part of his life. Raylan tried to think of the last time a gathering like that had taken place with his own family but he failed to do so right away, which didn’t improve his state of mind. Not even his wedding could have been considered as such, given that after the ceremony at the courthouse he and Winona had had a slice of cake with Aunt Helen at a diner and that had been it.

As he lay in bed many miles and many years away, he couldn’t deny that he had envied the sense of kinship and camaraderie that even many of the problematic families in Harlan  fostered among each other and that he was sort of envying it now too. His mother had done her best, Aunt Helen (oh God, how much he missed her; he doubted he’d ever be able to forgive Dickie Bennet even if it was probably what she might want him to do – not killing him was as far as his mercy would go) as well, but Arlo had always cast a dark shadow over them, over him. He might have been a result of the very difficult circumstances of Harlan, but Raylan also had very little room for doubt that for every brief flash of decency Arlo might display, there were three other flaws lurking beneath.

And now Helen was dead and Winona and his daughter were far away.

Raylan sat on the bed and ran his hands over his face. He poured some water from the carafe on the nightstand into a glass. If given the choice, he’d rather have something stronger, but he didn’t have a flask, everything was closed at that time of night and, but for Inspector Robinson and Miss Fisher, he didn’t know anyone who could provide him with the desired drink.

Yet, as he drank sips of water, the clarity that only distance can offer allowed him so see that he had a sort of family at work and was kind of surprised when he noticed that he was missing them, including Rachel, the confidential informant that passed along what she heard as she cleaned houses of the rich and famous criminals in Harlan County and who was almost like an honorary member of the team. Who would say?

He took his wristwatch off the table top and checked what time it was. Raylan wasn’t feeling very sleepy and the strange cloud that hovered above him hadn’t dissipated, but it was better for him to try to get some rest. At 8 o’clock, Inspector Robinson would be dropping by to pick him up, after insisting that it wasn’t a disturbance at all and that he would take the whole morning if he went by tram to the station. In an attempt to deal with having interrupted that moment between Jack and Phryne, theirs had been a somewhat strange conversation in the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was quite different from what I had presented so far, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless.
> 
> Raylan may be sassy and funny and apparently nonchalant but that man has some (more like many) issues and I guess that why it ended up taking this introspective turn. (That and the fact that I don't seem to be able to write happy things for him but for this fic. I was gutted when I finished writing «Goin' Back To Harlan» and I've only thought of sad head canons. Imagine if I didn't like him this much.)
> 
> Given this, here are some notes to you lovely Justified non-watchers out there (or whoever wants to read them to brush up some details):  
> \- Raylan does like to read and does live in a motel*.  
> \- He has had a rollercoaster of a relationship with Winona and Willa is their infant child; They do live in Miami.  
> \- Raylan's mother died off-screen when he was young and Helen, his maternal aunt, took care of him, loved him as if he were her own son and was a huge influence on his life so he wouldn't become another criminal like his father and so many men in Harlan. She ended up marrying Arlo, the piece of shit that it's his father (not exactly a spoiler and certainly not an exaggeration).  
> -I have no idea how Raylan and Winona's wedding was because they're already divorced (and she has re-married meanwhile even) when the show begins. I think they didn't even got married in Kentucky because they met in Florida, I think, and had promised they would never go back or something like that.  
> \- The Bennetts and the Givenses have a strife that dates back to the Prohibition era. The first ran moonshine across state lines, got busted by the FBI and believe a Givens had been responsible for tipping off the authorities. Given the setting of this story, I nearly fell off my chair when I heard this bit during my rewatch.  
> \- The Bennetts run the general store but they are also involved in criminal activities. Mags Bennett is the matriarch of that family and Dickie Bennet one of her sons. He killed Helen in light of the criminal activities mentioned above. (Keeping it as vague as I can for spoilers).  
> \- The 'Rachel' mentioned is Rachel Brooks. In the show she's a Marshal as well, but it couldn't be in the 1920s. As I searched for information about the first female African-American Deputy, I had to go through 5 pages of results that didn't provide me with any answers until I came across an obituary for Joanne Neely-Lewis where it said that « In 1973 Joanne was selected and sworn in as one of the first black female Deputy United States Marshals for the U.S. Marshal Service. » Given this, I took Rachel's actual experience as a house cleaner until someone she worked for paid her university tuition and used that to make her an Informant. I don't know how believable it would be for many reasons, but I felt bad leaving her out of my story because I really like her and she's a great Marshal.
> 
> *According to wikipedia, Motels' popularity peaked in the 1960s, but they started to appear in the 1920s, when long-distance car trips became more common and people had to sleep somewhere. The first was built in 1925 in California.  
> In light of my research and the look of the motel TV!Raylan lives in, I imagine his to be like the Log Cabin Motel, also known as Camp O' The Pines in Pinedale, Wyoming, built in 1929, to serve the people en route to Yellowstone National Park and still open today. I'm not sure when Motels started to pop up in Kentucky (google wasn't very helpful so far), but I'll accept this little tweak into my story, believing you won't mind it.
> 
> Well, I guess this is it for now. I'm sorry for the fact that the notes are almost as long as the chapter. Thank you for reading both the story and this note and I hope you enjoy what's coming up next. There aren't many chapters left.


	12. Chapter 12

He hadn’t wanted to voice it, but Jack couldn’t say he was shocked when that entire day of canvassing the city after the green Essex and similar cars Wolfe’s garage tended to when needed had turned out so disappointing. The lack of any register of that vehicle and the fact that there wasn’t more money in the till than what was supposed to nor of any addition to the usual 10 pounds Wolfe carried religiously in his pockets everyday appeared to have been a clue in itself.

No motorcar of the sort had been reported stolen, alibis checked out and every visit to the garage was not only registered in Miss Jordan’s neat handwriting, but they were also backed by receipts held by the clients themselves. Besides, as expected, there were no prints on the Stillsons.

Jack decided to take a gamble and find if any car was registered under Cal Evans’ name and also under to his known associates'. Cal Evans had a burgundy Packard 645, but Mark Rogers, his right hand man, had a green Essex Super Six sedan.

«Why would I take Mark’s car when I have one and mine is so much better?»

Jack and Raylan were talking to the infamous Cal Evans in the verandah of his house, a stone rustic gothic building slightly gauche in its exaggerated details, located in East Melbourne. Miss Fisher had been called to assist in investigating a jewellery robbery at Collins Street and couldn’t accompany them.

«Maybe because you didn’t want to be recognised around Clifton Hill when you went to remind Carlton Wolfe of what he was owing?», said Jack.

«I don’t recall having been to Clifton Hill in a long time», Evans said.

He was a tall man with dark blond hair, blue eyes, and a face Raylan considered highly punchable. The yellow tie and pocket square that were his trademark stood against his blue shirt and his plaid suit in the same tones, the eyesore even worse than what he had expected after hearing Madeleine’s description.

«Carlton Wolfe is dead now, did you know? He was murdered, to be precise», Jack said.

«I’ll send flowers once I see the announcement in the paper.»

Jack clenched and unclenched his fist inside his pocket. It was either that or ram it in Evans' face.

«Did you know if Mark Rogers had his car over for repairs at Wolfe’s garage, in Lader Road, three days ago?», he asked.

«I don’t keep track of other people’s cars», he replied in a flat tone, as if he were making them a favour. «Do you?»

«Where were you yesterday morning?», Jack asked.

«Excuse me?»

«Where were you yesterday morning, between 6 and 8 o’clock?», Jack asked again.

«Okay, I’ll answer, for old times’ sake. I was in Canberra under my boss' orders», Evans replied, putting his hands on his pockets, an action that made Raylan’s muscles tense even considering that he was quite sure that if the gangster meant to pull a gun on them, he'd be laying on the floor before he managed to finish the thought.

«Billy Ashton?»

 «You should check you records, Inspector», he said as if spitting the word, «because my boss’ name is Theodore Ashton, not Billy, and let me remind you that Mr Theodore Ashton is an honest businessman with friends in places you can’t even dream to reach.»

Officially it was true. Theo Ashton’s enterprises had indeed a legal veneer but, even if the Police didn’t have evidence to fully support it yet, they also had a very strong suspicion that they provided assistance to his brother’s illegal activities.

«And now I believe there’s nothing else to discuss», he said, meaning to pass between Raylan and Jack and open the gate in an obnoxious way to show how unwelcome they were.

«The inspector hasn’t finished yet», Raylan said, taking a step to his right and raising his hand.

«This has nothing to do with you, yankee», Evans said with an challenging expression on his face and a provocative jerk of his head.

«You see, I could take offence in that, given that I’m from Kentucky, which would fall below the Mason-Dixie line,» Raylan said, a smirk on his face, « but I’m  not expecting you to be familiar with the intricacies of my country’s History and you insulted me enough already  just now when you disrespected Inspector Robinson, an Australian officer of the law, asshole», his features assuming a fed-up expression meanwhile.

Evans looked a Jack, still with the same smug mien.

«You should control your friend, Inspector or you may be in trouble at some point. I was in Canberra picking up a set of cogs for a mangle.»

«Why would I do so? Deputy Givens is not a small child for me to control and he’s right. I’m investigating a murder and you are verging on perverting the course of justice», Jack said. « But you pick a lot of things from a lot of places, don’t you?»

«They are all laundry business trips – buying pieces of machinery, visiting clients, that sort of thing. I just do what my boss tells me to. Don’t you do the same for the Commisioner?»

«What did I just told you about disrespecting authority?», said Raylan, running very low on patience with Evans now.

«I consider my citizen’s duty of helping the police finished, you do not have a warrant and I’m not under arrest. Considering that I believe we’ve ran out of civilized conversation, I’m going to ask you to remove yourselves from my property», Evans paused. « If you don’t stop ask questions about my boss, I may have to complain to yours.»

«I believe he wouldn’t mind knowing that the Police is being thorough with the inquiries needed to further the development of this investigation», said Jack.

Evans might still be under the impression that Harker was cut from the same cloth as Sanderson and Hall, but he was wrong, Jack thought.

«Thank you for your time», Jack said as professionally as he could, turning around to leave. Raylan did the same a couple of seconds later, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be attacked by behind – it would be stupid of Evans to do so and he didn’t seem stupid, but there was a first time for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are still enjoying this story as it enters its last leg and are still interested to read what's coming up next.
> 
> I'm sorry for the lack of Miss Fisher in this installment but as I mentioned previously, apart from the suit thing, this fic sort of derived from the similarities I think that exist between Raylan and Jack. I hope it doesn't impair your enjoyment of this chapter.
> 
> The use of «asshole» as an insult may seem something very modern, but according to wikipedia (I wouldn't base a scientific paper on it, but it's good for this type of things, I find), « the use to refer to a contemptible person is first attested in 1933», according to Lighter, J.: Historical Dictionary of American Slang, Random House, 1994.  
> They also point out that as «As with other vulgarities, these uses of the word may have been common in oral speech for some time before their first appearances in print.»  
> I'll pretend that it would be at least in slight use in 1929 because TV! Raylan uses it some times (there goes your interest?) when he can't even take the idiots that cross paths with him and oh my doesn't he have to suffer a considerable share of them.  
> Yes, Raylan is fun, cool, and the hero of the show but he can also be obnoxious and indeed an asshole, if you pardon my French. His redeeming qualities like his sense of justice and moral compass, the fact that he's good at his job, and than in certain moments he makes the right choice, for instance, tip the scale towards us liking him.(But isn't that complexity one of the hallmarks of a great character?)
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your feedback.


	13. Chapter 13

«It’s bullshit», Raylan said when they had been silently in the car for ten minutes, driving back to the City South Police station.

«I beg your pardon?», Jack said, more because he feared he had missed something Givens had said than for his phrasing. He acknowledged he hadn’t exactly been the best host in that moment, but he was doing his best to try to manage driving safely while his mind was so disquiet.

«Remember that thing Harker said about how I came highly recommended by my boss?»

«I do», Jack said, quickly glancing at him, not exactly sure where that conversation would lead.

«It’s bullshit. He thinks I’m a lousy Marshal. He has said so himself and I guess he’s right sometimes. There are moments where I’d argue I’m good at my job, but I do bend too many rules, don’t always follow orders, leave a lot of messes behind that he has to deal with. He sent me here because he says I’m obsessed with Boyd Crowder», Raylan said, making a small pause afterwards.

« Boyd is the Billy Ashton of Harlan, if you want – bootlegging, drugs, prostitutes, protection money, you name it, he’s probably involved in it. We’ve been playing cat and mouse for a long time», he continued, scratching the inner corner of his left eye, his gaze back on the road ahead afterwards. «I shot him in the chest, I’ve been able to get him in jail once, but he has always been able to escape, it doesn’t matter if death or prison. I’m not very religious and I’d bet that it was all a lie, but maybe God does pay attention to his preachin’».

Jack was still driving in silence as Raylan spoke.

« Boyd and I come from way back – you could say our fathers were associates, we were friends once when we dug coal together and we’ve even saved each other’s lives in a couple of occasions, both inside and outside the mines, but I still want to put him away for good, because the guy is a criminal, an outlaw, and a murderer with a rap sheet as long as my arm even if I know he may be sentenced to the death penalty. The past just makes it even harder, but you do what you got to do», he said in a very matter-of-fact tone. « I was supposed to be in Florida, you know? It’s where my ex-wife and my daughter live now. My relationship with her mother was complicated, but I want to do right by her, to not be a shitty father as mine was, yet I’m still in Kentucky after Boyd. Art says that I’m so blind by catching him that I’m making mistakes that hinder more than what they help and he isn’t even sure if I’m not stalling my move to Florida on purpose», Raylan finished talking. He had recalled that conversation many times and he had wondered if his boss wasn’t indeed right every moment he did so, at least to a certain degree. Besides, Raylan had very rarely been open about any of these situations and finding himself sharing them like this took him by surprise.

«The reason why I’m telling you all this», he resumed, turning slightly to Jack, «is because I noticed how this Cal Evans guy seems to be sort of your own Boyd Crowder. You struck me as someone who doesn’t talk much from the beginning, but you have been holding that steering wheel with more force than needed the whole time since we left that idiot behind.»

Jack kept silent. He didn’t live his life meaning to be a cipher, but it was always strange when someone read him as clearly as Raylan had just done.

«You are right, I’m afraid», Jack said eventually. «Evans and I don’t have that personal connection, or maybe we do, because I’ve been trying to bring him to justice for the past 10 years», he continued, his eyes fixed on the road and not only because he was driving. Jack Robinson was a straightforward man, but there were things that were easier to access and reveal without facing another person even if knowing someone was listening was of some comfort.

«He killed the younger brother of a bloke who owed Ashton money. Apparently it was supposed to scare him only but he killed a 12-year-old boy in the end and I couldn’t catch him for it – there was circumstantial evidence only and the two witnesses recanted their testimony out of fear; you don’t challenge the Ashtons and hope to come out of it unscathed», Jack said, swallowing dryly, « His name was Peter Ware. He was riding his bicycle to meet some friends for football. Evans hit the back wheel with the car, once, twice. Peter lost the control of the bicycle, fell, and hit his head on the pavement. Cal Evans let him bleed out in the middle of the street and drove away.»

Jack felt his eyes sting with tears and was glad for having the shadow of the brim of his hat falling over them.               

«I’m sorry to hear that», Raylan said after some moments of silence.  

Inspector Robinson nodded. There was nothing else he could add.

«Far from me to think I’m wise enough to dispense advise to anyone and what I’ve just said is classic ‘do as I say, not as I do’ because once I’m back in Kentucky, I’ll resume looking for Boyd, but I hope you don’t let this Evans thing get the best of you, even if he doesn’t go down for Wolfe’s murder, because, let’s be honest, it  looks like it’s going in that direction.»

«I know», said Jack, «Every policeman has a case that won’t leave him be, whether they have been on the job for a year or for thirty.»

«I’m aware than what I’m about to say will sound bad, but it’s not worth it. A part of us will keep looking for them until they’re in jail or either one of us is dead because we all carry our own Peter Wares with us, but it’s not worth it. The best we can do is focus on the task at hand, catch the ones we do can catch.»

Jack didn’t reply, but they were both glad for that conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for your enthusiasm and support.
> 
> This may be the penultimate chapter, but it curiously features the «image» that made me go forward with the story. 
> 
> I was minding my life when suddenly I ‘hear’ Raylan saying to Jack: «You know that thing about me coming here highly recommended by my boss? That’s bullshit, he thinks I'm a lousy Marshal.» 
> 
> From that moment on I couldn't stop thinking about writing something and how to bring Raylan to Melbourne - at first I considered him chasing a fugitive to Australia but I didn't know if it would be 'workable' due to jurisdictions and this was supposed to be a short thing, not something that would require a ton of research. I ended up with this protocol thing that may be as inaccurate as the chase mentioned above and I honestly thought I couldn't even get a drabble out of it all.
> 
> Art did say to Raylan: « I'm stuck with a man who is a lousy marshal, but a good law man. And you are who you are, nothing I say has ever made any difference. No punishment that I can dream up will ever change you. Maybe someday you and I'd be able to look back on this and laugh. I don't think you'll live that long.» *excuse me while I go fetch a handkerchief*
> 
> This idea of Jack having a criminal he had meant to catch for long but was failing to was one of the first things I set as well. I don't know exactly why, but looking back I think it derived from Raylan and Boyd's canon and how it could be a way to tie their stories somehow, having them both relate in light of their similar situation. 
> 
> I've been afraid this seems a bit of an 'info-dump' chapter but I find sometimes that when people start disclosing something that troubles them they can't put the lid back as fast as they wished. I hope this and its presentation in the text makes some sort of sense.
> 
> I had the feeling that it had been Art that had raised the question about Raylan seeming to be stalling his going to Florida, but as I was looking for the quote to refer in this note, I find out that it's Raylan himself who once says to Boyd that he has been lying to him: «Keeping up the fiction that I got all manner of things tying me to Kentucky, things that forestall my moving to Florida. But there is only the one thing: you.» (Don't google the quote if you don't want to spoil a moment displaying many of the fine achievements of Justified I've praised over and over again). 
> 
> I guess I was mixing it up with another reference Art made to Florida and Raylan's life there in case some things happened - keeping it vague because spoilers -, but I didn't change it completely in this chapter because I believe Art would make some sort of similar comment at some point (if he hasn't indeed and I'm just having trouble locating it). Given their interactions over the course of the show, I wouldn't put it past possibility.
> 
> If he didn't get his job done most times and Art didn't have a soft spot for him (I've already mentioned their sort of father-son relationship), I have little doubt about how Raylan would have probably been fired already, considering all the things he finds himself involved in, not to mention all the messes he seems to willingly run towards as well.
> 
> A simplistic view would say that Boyd Crowder is the anti-hero to Raylan's hero but that isn't exactly like that. He's so wonderfully written and portrayed you will have moments where you hate him and moments where you empathise with him. Moments where you want to punch him in the face and moments where you want him to succeed.  
> I added the bootlegging thing because of the 1920s setting but Boyd is indeed involved in a lot of criminal activities mentioned as the show goes on and a significant part of Justified revolves around the long and complex game of cat-and-mouse between Raylan and Boyd. They dug coal together and they were friends, they have saved each other's lives many times both inside and outside the mines, both in the past and in the present; Nothing I can write here will properly convey the terrific moments of storytelling and TV their interactions create. The writing is fantastic and Timothy Olyphant and Walton Goggins elevate it to a superior level.
> 
> Curiously, Boyd actually dies in the short-story upon which the Justified pilot is based on, but he was kept on and even Elmore Leonard brought him back in «Raylan», the book he wrote once the show was already on air. I think this is a testament to the quality of Justified's take on the character, both writing and acting-wise.
> 
> I'm sorry for a note almost as long as the chapter itself (if not longer). I hope you find this interesting at least.
> 
> I also hope you are still interested enough in order to read the conclusion of this story. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your feedback.


	14. Chapter 14

«I hope you don’t feel that I’ve overstayed my welcome», Raylan said to Jack and Miss Fisher after lunch, when they were at the Spencer Street Station waiting for his train. «All visitors do at some point, but I hope I didn’t reach that stage.»

«Not at all. It was good having you in Melbourne», Phryne said with a smile.

«It’s not usual, but I make Miss Fisher’s words mine», said Jack, «I was pleased to make your acquaintance and I greatly appreciated working alongside you, Deputy Givens», said Jack.

«Yes.  I truly enjoyed my time here and having met you, Inspector Robinson, and Miss Fisher as well as many other people over these last two weeks. Besides, helping to solve 3 cases out of 4 doesn’t strike me as a bad result, considering», he said, arranging his hat.

«Indeed», said Jack.

«And you take a handful of stories to tell back home.», added Phryne.

«I do. Let’s see if they want to hear them», replied Raylan with a smile.

«Speaking of… here’s something to remember us by. I thought you might like it», Phryne said, giving him an envelope that she retrieved from her handbag.

Raylan opened it. It was a picture taken during the third dinner he had attended at St. Kilda featuring everyone that had been there.

«Thank you so much, Miss Fisher. It was very nice of you», he said, truly moved, looking from the picture to Phryne, putting the envelope in the inside pocket of his overcoat afterwards.

«Train to Wangaretta, attention, passengers to Wangaretta, the train will leave in two minutes», an employee of the station said loudly after blowing a whistle to draw awareness to his announcement.

«Well, that’s mine I guess», Raylan said with a regretful sigh.

«Send our regards to Constable Martin», said Jack, «He worked at City South for a week while Constable Collins was on leave.»

«They will be delivered», Raylan promised, picking one of his suitcases off the floor.

«Thank you so much for welcoming me so warmly. As I said, I had a great time in Melbourne», he continued, «Will I be able to return the favour in America?»

«It’s up to Commissioner Harker to decide who goes, I’m afraid, but I’ll be content to go if he chooses me. I’ve never been to the United States and I would like to», said Jack.

«I may take up on that offer too, if that’s the case», Phryne said.

«You wouldn’t let me go by myself, Miss Fisher?», Jack said light-heartedly.

«No offense meant, Marshal, but I think you might miss some fun if I stayed in Melbourne», replied Phryne, looking at Jack, who smiled at her.

«Oh, I’m sure you’d make quite a splash in Lexington, let alone Harlan, Miss Fisher», Raylan said, laughing.

«Thank you, Deputy Givens», she said with a very dignified nod.

«My best to Constable Collins, Miss Williams, Mrs Stanley, Mr. Butler, Dr. MacMillan, Miss Ross, Cec and Bert as well, even if we didn’t get the chance to know each other much and there was that capitalism thing.»

«I’ll let them know», promised Phryne

«Train to Wangaretta, attention, passengers to Wangaretta, The train will leave in one minute», the employee of the station said loudly after blowing the whistle again.

«I better go on or I’ll have to take advantage of your hospitality for another day», Raylan said, reaching out to shake Jack’s hand. «I hope we’ll meet again eventually.»

«Likewise», said Jack.

«We wouldn’t mind having you around for another day or even a week», Phryne said when he shook hers. «Have a good trip around Australia and then back to home.»

«Thank you for everything, honestly», Raylan said, taking the handle of the other suitcase in his hand and boarding the train.

When he was in his seat and saw Phryne and Jack wave at him, Raylan opened and raised his hand back.

He hadn’t felt exactly thrilled when Art had told him the news of that voyage, but, as he was readying himself to the next part of his tour, Raylan discovered that he would truly miss them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it. The delirious idea I was afraid wouldn't even be enough for a drabble turned into this 14-chapter story I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> It wasn't always easy to write, mainly due to my previously issue with not being sure if I was doing right by the characters, but it was fun for the most part and I want to believe you had fun reading it too. Like 1920s Raylan, I'm going to truly miss this.
> 
> Thank you so much for your support and feedback as this went on, not only as I posted it but as I wrote it as well. It may sound like a repetition (and a void one, to make matters worse, but), it does mean a great deal to me. Knowing you appreciate what I write puts a huge smile on my face and warms my heart. 
> 
> I hope to meet you again soon in the UaTEC realm. <3


End file.
